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Changeful British Skies


Sharpie

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Attis shrugged. "He's not bad-looking, and can hold a decent conversation, domine. Better him than Ismene, anyway." The bitch; it was a good thing the master's mother-in-law and her slave didn't have all that much to do with the master.

He had been hungry; he'd almost finished his food, and the master probably hadn't. He scraped the last bit of puls from the bowl before getting up to pour a cup of wine for his master, and hoped he could have a wash soon. 

"How long do you think you'll be away with this raid tonight, domine?" he enquired, stepping back and stooping to rescue a tunic that had been flung carelessly on the floor earlier.

 

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Longinus glanced up at Attis from beneath his brows with a dispassionate look, "He's also incredibly irritating. But at least you won't get him pregnant." He shook his head, amused, "Because I know I let you get away with bloody murder, but I would not be happy should you knock up one of the kitchen girls, or Ismene." He added the latter as a joke, thinking of nothing worse than going to be with the harpy. He had enough slaves and didn't need another mouth to feed, nor a screaming baby waking him up whilst its wails echoed around the domus and inciting Cassia into her screaming. That was, of course, should they ever return home. 

"Hmm?" He mumbled, mouth full of food before clattering his spoon again. He was so easily distracted, it would be a miracle if he would finish the food before it went cold. 

"Probably until at least after dawn depending on how it goes. We want to get a good number of them alive, and then I want to speak to them and depending on the losses we have, I'll need to speak to the Prefect and the men." He shrugged before adding, darkly, "That's if I return at all, of course." He'd put provisions in place for Attis should the worst happen - which one of his men not going on the raid tonight knew, but he wasn't about to tell his slave that...yet.

 

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"He's not likely to get me pregnant, either, thank Juno," Attis replied, folding the tunic and setting it aside before picking up and shaking out another. "I'd be afraid for my prick if I went anywhere near Ismene with it, the bitch," he added. "I'd be safer with one of those barbarian brutes!"

He couldn't help the shiver that crawled up his spine at the thought that his master might not make it back. He knew that Longinus was not in the safest profession in the Empire (honestly, there weren't many safe professions open to the senatorial class, after all) but to have it brought home that his master might not survive to see dawn tomorrow... He'd head over to the legion's shrine and leave an offering for his master's safety, if the place was open after dark. And would let him do so.

"I'll make sure you're not disturbed tomorrow then, domine - you'll want some sleep, after all that," he said, levity being his shield against such dark thoughts, as usual.

 

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As Attis used a particularly colourful epithet for his mother's body slave Longinus arched a brow, "Careful." He warned with narrowed eyes, "I might not particularly like her but my mother certainly does, and I don't want friction if we ever make it back. You're also her senior now," As much as slaves could have seniority, after all, "So at least that can be some comfort when she's catty." He smirked. Ismene must hate that he plucked a random house slave only to deposit him in the most prestigious position a slave could obtain; as a bodyslave to the pater familias. 

He didn't fail to notice the way Attis brush over the subject of his potential downfall. It evidently unnerved him, perhaps moreso than it unnerved Longinus himself who had come to terms with his own mortality quite some time ago. It was natural, given his occupation. 

Deciding there was no point keeping it from his slave, and considering it might make it a little easier he sighed and ran a hand through his hair - finished with his food now the topic of conversation had darkened. "In there," He jerked his head to an upended lock box, "Are papers authorising your safe passage to Rome, should the worst happen. I'll leave the key on my desk. Take it to Quaestor Titus Suplicius Rufus in Londinium, he'll ensure you're put on a boat - with my ashes, hopefully." He added with a macabre grin. "Ensure my will is read when you get back, you'll be manumitted along with Vitus." The others will be up to Antonia's discretion. He sighed and took as sip of his replenished wine before adding, trying to lighten the mood. "But don't get any ideas about offing me just to be freed now."

 

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The news that Longinus had planned for his return to Rome and his manumission made Attis pause. Whatever he had expected, should the worst happen, it was not that.

"Thank you , domine," he said, swallowing before returning to picking up the clothes strewn around the tent. "And I wouldn't dream of doing any such thing." He knew just as well as his master did what happened to slaves who murdered their masters, and he had no intention of setting himself up for that nightmare.

Besides all that, he liked his master - who else would let Attis get away with half the things he said, after all? There weren't that many masters who'd treat their slaves as if they were actual human beings.

"Have you finished with that?" he asked, noticing that his master had pushed his food aside, though he'd barely eaten half of it.

 

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Longinus smiled, watching the flustered Attis and laughed; "Obviously I hope I've got you for a little while longer yet, Beautus was firmly old and grey when I manumitted him." And it was precisely for that reason he'd freed him and shunted him off to a nice little farm in the countryside, ostensibly as a reward but largely to keep him out of Longinus' hair. 

He glanced down at his half eaten dinner and nodded, pushing it away for Attis to collect. He'd never had a particularly voracious appetite, especially when he was nervous. He was not a man so lost in masculinity that he couldn't admit he was afraid sometimes, and Gods only knew what was to come with this raid. 

With a yawn, he leant back in his chair with a frown at Attis, a thought occurring to him. "Do my men treat you well here?" Conversation around any potential freedom had led his mind to this particular path. He knew that a slave travelling alone was suspect, hence why he'd sealed a letter for Attis should the worst happen. But he really had no notion of what the camp must be like for a slave. His very presence commanded respect by virtue of his rank, but he doubted the same could be said for poor Attis.

 

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Attis pushed the thought of freedom firmly down, it was not going to happen any time soon, no matter how much he might like it. Anyway, what would he do, suddenly cut loose and expected to make his own way in the world? Yes, he would have a patron, but he wouldn't have an expectation of food, shelter or clothing without having to earn the money himself to pay for them.

He shrugged at the question. "Well enough, domine. Probably better than the lixae, to be honest - they know I'm your personal slave."

Which meant that they knew that anything Attis was fetching was most likely something he'd been sent to fetch by their commanding officer. Yes, there were occasional incidents, but he'd never been delayed so much that he couldn't come up with a reasonable explanation for it; and none of them were likely to give him any physical abuse - certainly not if they knew that Longinus took Attis to his bed on occasion and would thus see any bruises or other marks.

He had never needed to hide behind his master's rank, but it was nice to know he had even the tiny protection it offered. Although probably his definition of 'well' and his master's differed by a considerable amount; Longinus was a free man and from the senatorial class, after all, and Attis was a slave, born of slaves. A few slaps here or there didn't really register with him in the same way they would with Longinus - as if anyone would dare to slap his master!

 

OOC: lixa (s.), lixae (pl): a slave owned by the Roman army (see the article downloadable here)

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Longinus arched a brow and nodded. He was going to press on what exactly 'well enough' meant but decided to leave it. He trusted Attis enough to come to him should anything serious or particularly troublesome be thrown his way. Whilst Longinus was a man that understood the necessity of slaves and all the discipline and 'difficult' decisions that came along with owning them, he was not ignorant to the fact that a slave's life was as easy as his own. Particularly when they served and cleaned up after his particular brand of chaos. 

Relaxed back into his chair, his eyes roamed the tent which he noted (with minor annoyance given his previous instruction) that Attis was beginning to clear. The steaming bowl of hot water sat next to his body slave who tugged at discarded tunics as if the sight mortally offended him. 

"You better use that before it goes cold." He jerked his head to the water, "Although rinse a linen for me to use first." He didn't need to soap himself up to get squeaky clean only to stumble back into the tent muddied and bloodied later that night after the raid. He offered a sly smile at Attis though, "Do you want me to turn around? Have you suddenly gone so shy?"

 

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"I thought.." Attis began, before shrugging and dipping a cloth for his master. Whether there would be any hot water for him after he got back was a question only the gods could answer... but then, if he was back after dawn, there would be a fire somewhere - and Longinus' needs outweighed anyone else's. At least, as far as Attis was concerned they did.

"Shy, domine? Not at all - but you ought to have first dibs at it." Being a free man and all...

He brought the bowl over; there was nowhere to set it down, so he just held it - Longinus was not going to simply make use of a damp rag and leave the whole basin of water untouched for his slave to use, surely? His master might be mad enough to allow Attis free rein in what he said, but even he wasn't mad enough to take second place to his slave, for Jupiter's sake!

 

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"Of course I get first dibs." He rolled his eyes, "I might be nice to you upon occasion but I've not gone bloody mad." Which was really the best way of putting it. He indulged Attis as an amusing slave, a companion, but a slave nonetheless. Wringing out the rag he ran it over his face and throat, wishing not for the first time that Britannia had cottoned on to the luxury of Roman baths. There were few things he missed out here, but that was bloody one of them. 

Without a care, he pulled his tunica over his head and re-wetting the rag, washed his chest and cock. When he was done, he deposited the rag back into the bowl and pulled over the tunica again. Sitting back down he moved his long legs up to rest, crossed legged over on his desk as if he were some fat middle aged merchant without a care in the world. 

"There's still some left." He shrugged and stifled a yawn and when he was done, reached down to sip some wine. 

 

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Well, there's a mercy, Attis though, only just managing not to say the words aloud. Nothing worse than a mad master, after all.

"Thank you, domine," he said once his master was finished. He moved away so that he could put the basin down before likewise pulling his tunic off, aware that he was giving his master a show, but not caring in the least - nudity was nothing to be ashamed of, in slave or free, and his master had just screwed him anyway. Let him look, if he wanted - Attis just hoped that he liked what he saw.

Trust his master to have his feet up on the desk and be watching him over the rim of his wine-cup as Attis washed sweat and other bodily fluids from his skin, finaly wringing the cloth out and draping it over the side of the basin before reaching for his tunic to dress again.

 

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Longinus pretended not to look and instead frowned intently at a particular piece of correspondence on his desk. When Attis was finished he grinned up at his slave, chuckling; "You put the men and women of Rome's finest brothels to shame with that show." He smirked and arched a suggestive brow. "Maybe I'd get some decent coin for you there." He was not above joking about selling off his slaves, even if in practice he rarely did so. He especially didn't mind suggesting such to somebody like Attis who effortlessly towed the line between respectful and brazen, and he often thought needed gentle reminders of his position. Even if he only really meant it in jest. 

Dropping down the parchment, he stifled a yawn with a palm before running his hands over his face. He felt exhausted, and that was not exactly encouraging for tonight's raid, still a few hours away. 

The thought of which made him glance back up at Attis with a lazy shrug; "Don't leave the tent until I'm back." If I come back"Sods bloody law this raid will be a trap and we'll have a horde of Brigantes trying to break into the camp." Unlikely, and almost impossible they'd succeed given the various defences of the place, but he didn't want Attis caught up in military manoeuvres. Nor did he really want him to get in the way of those that were actually fighting. 

"Maybe I'll bring home some nice Briton slaves for you to mentor, this evening." He largely sold his British spoils on, although a few of them he kept, as keepsakes.

 

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"With this scar?" Attis indicated his forehead. Not bloody likely, his master wouldn't. Brothels liked their slaves to have pretty faces as well as pretty bodies, unless they belonged to the lowest sort of brothel, and Longinus wouldn't get anything like Attis' value if he sold him to one of those. "You'd have to pay for a show like mine at one of those, but you can have one for free any time you'd like if you keep me."

It did sting, though, being reminded that he was property and could be sold as easily as any of his master's other possessions. Which was probably the point, of course - the slave can't be allowed to forget that he is a slave, even for a moment.

"Yes, Domine," he said, turning serious again in response to the serious order. It wouldn't help him in the least if the entire tribe of Brigantes did break into the camp - the leather of his master's tent was not as much protection as the stone walls of a permanent fort would be, after all, but saying as much would not help, and he had no wish to make his master think he was being impertinent. He skirted it most of the time, but deliberate back-chat could not be tolerated even by a master as lenient as Lucius Cassius Longinus.

"That would be nice," he said. "Are you... Would you like a massage, before you have to go, Domine?"

 

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Longinus chuckled and feigned deep thought before grinning like a boy. "Well then, for that reason alone - given you're useless at tidying," He gestured mockingly to the continued disarray around them, "I suppose I'll keep you." Like there was ever really any other option for him. A man of his...peculiar habits and erratic personality could only really find a few slaves who understood him, and could actually cope with the chaos he often left in his wake. Attis, was most definitely a diamond in a sea of pebbles. 

He frowned though, that Attis didn't take to the idea of new slaves - even if he initially meant it only in jest. Waving a hand to dismiss the idea of massage, he studied his slave. "No, no I'm fine. You don't want me to bring you a nice pair of savages to scold?" He chuckled, "I made you bodyslave before you really had a chance to lord it over any of the slaves back in Rome. I'm generous enough to give you the opportunity now and you don't care!" He scoffed, but in good humour. "I'm going to bring you back a big hulking barbarian in punishment, and expect you to share your sleeping area with him and teach him Latin from scratch."

 

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"Oh, Domine... A big hulking barbarian, just for little me? I don't suppose they've got a nice teenage boy, with big eyes, who'll look up at me adoringly and think I'm the best thing in the whole world apart from his beloved master - who would be you," Attis returned. "You do spoil me so!"

He batted his eyes at his master before returning to tidying up the tent; if his master didn't want a massage, that was no skin off Attis' nose, though he thought his master could use a little relaxation before heading off into the wilds of 'let's get beaten up by the big hulking British savages and give our body slave a heart attack when we come back covered in blood'.

He wondered what other slave would be able to take Longinus' teasing, and decided he didn't care and nor did it matter; there was no other slave around who needed to, and he could lord it over the lixae here just as easily as he could over a captured barbarian or ten, or the house slaves back at home.

"Are you sure you don't want a massage, or anything else, before you head out to face the fearsome barbarians, domine?" he asked once he'd folded the tunic he was currently holding.

 

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Longinus laughed loudly and arched a brow; "Maybe I'll find some youthful adonis just for you, if you're lucky." Fat chance of that, he thought. Whilst the British he'd seen had a few good-looking women in their ranks, their men left a lot to be desired. Something about the beards and the straggly long hair just didn't do it for him. 

"Hmm?" He mumbled and glanced from the middle distance back to his slave, shaking his head with a barely concealed yawn. With a groan he stood, rolling the muscles of his neck until he heard the satisfying click. "Just sleep." He mumbled and stumbled back towards his cot, collapsing down onto it with a heavy thud. His speech grew lazy and slow as he spoke; "I've got a couple of hours until I need to be up and dressed and if I go into the raid like this I'm going to bloody fall asleep on my feet." He yawned again and didn't bother to conceal it. He rolled over on his side so his back was to Attis and said over his shoulder, "Wake me in an hour and don't bloody tidy it can wait." 

Before he knew it he'd fallen into slumber and the sounds of light snoring filtered  through the tent. 

 

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Attis gave a despairing look around the tent. He'd tried, and been thwarted, in his attempts to wreak a little tidiness on it, but his master was not to be gainsaid - even when he flatly accused Attis of not being able to keep it tidy (which was his master's prerogative, of course - though it was equally all his master's fault it was in such a mess in the first place).

He had an hour and then was not to set foot outside the tent until his master returned from the night's escapade. Well, he had preparations of his own to make in that hour - he was not about to end up fainting with hunger because his master was still away and he couldn't leave to get food, so laying in something to eat for the morning would be a good plan, plus leaving an offering to Mars for his master's safe return (if Longinus ever found out about that, Attis was pretty sure he wouldn't live it down!).

He wrapped his cloak around him and slipped out on his errand - what his master didn't know, wouldn't hurt him, but there were bound to be busybodies who'd gleefully let Longinus know of Attis' disobedience if he left the tent after his master did.

It was not long before he returned, offering left. He brought back a beaker of water and hunk of bread for his breakfast, which he stowed carefully out of sight before removing his cloak and putting it away. He located his master's military cloak in the wreckage and laid it over his chair before bending over his master's cot to wake him.

"Domine, time to get up!"

 

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Longinus shifted and jerked awake at the sound of Attis over him, grumbling when he finally cracked open his eyes. The snatched hour of sleep had rejuvenated him a little but he still felt that hideous grogginess one always did after a nap. With a grumble of annoyance he swatted Attis out of the way, "You could at least try and sound less cheery when you ruin my sleep." He mumbled as he pulled himself to sit up, blinking the sleep from his eyes. "Water." He ordered, his throat hoarse and dry. The sounds of the camp filled his ears as he was brought back to the present. 

He rubbed his hands over his face to banish the sleep from his eye and rolled his neck to get rid of the ache that sleeping on a cot always produced.

Arching a brow at Attis he considered him for a moment, "I'm not going to ask where you've been." He gestured to the thin film of water on Attis' hair, suggesting he'd been out in the permanent drizzle. He had a habit for noticing the minutiae, and only chuckled hoarsely, "I just hope you've got everything ready. I'm not going to inspire my men and strike fear into the British hearts dressed like this, am I?" he gestured to the plain tunica he was wearing. 

 

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"Would you believe me if I said the latrines, domine?" Attis enquired, fetching the required cup of water. He ran a hand through his damp hair and tried not to sigh. Why had he ended up with such an observant master - surely no other slave laboured under such circumstances?

"There's a clean tunic for you, as well - if the British had any sense, you'd strike fear into them regardless of your state of dress, but we can't all be so sensible."

Anyway, it would be the armour and squad of fully trained, battle ready legionaries who would do the striking of fear this time.

 

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He took a deep sip of water and the burn in his throat dissipated. Looking dispassionately at the tunic he nodded his thanks and drained the cup - setting it down on the floor next to his cot. Just another bit of chaos to be cleared! With one final move of his hand to rub the sleep from his eyes, he stood and pulled off his tunic to find his discarded subligaculum, tying it deftly in a knot. Holding out his hand for the tunic, he dressed in it silently, contemplatively. 

Whilst not in a bad mood - he often found himself growing more withdrawn ahead of manoeuvres and raids such as these. It was almost as if he was storing up his energy for later, but he had forgotten momentarily that Attis had never experienced it before - being new to his service as a body slave. 

When he had his tunic on he gestured to the discarded uniform lying in various places across the tent. "Lets get me dressed and ready to go, hm?" He said, finally breaking the silence. 

 

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Attis could hardly wait for his master to be dressed and gone so he could set the tent to rights again. He shifted tunics and other clothing into one heap, extracting a clean focale and his master's bright scarlet cloak, before collecting together his armour and coming over to get his master into it.

"Have I done something wrong, domine?" he enquired, nervous at the uncharacteristic silence Longinus was treating him to. His master didn't like being woken at the best of times, so it could have something to do with that, notwithstanding that Attis had only been obeying an order when he'd woken his master. 

 

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Longinus let himself be dressed by Attis, feeling an odd sense of calm at the familiar weight of the armour. He stood in silence until Attis posed his question and Longinus arched a brow. It amused him to think that either he was concerned he was due some punishment, or he was genuinely concerned for his masters welfare.

”No, nothing wrong. He raised his arms so he could be put into his breastplate and shook his head, “Just because I’ve been here for years, doesn’t mean I don’t still get nervous.” He considered, studied his slave looking for his reaction. Few men of his rank exposed their weaknesses after all. “And I like to take time to think, plan. You go into something like this and it can go a hundred ways. I like to have a plan for every scenario so that I can have confidence leading my men...so for once in my life, I get quiet, before, and think.”

 

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"Oh," Attis replied quietly, and bit his tongue to keep from saying anything further, that would only serve to irritate his master or something. He did know how to shut up, astonishingly enough.

"Well, uh, Mars grant you success tonight, then, domine," he said, once the final piece was strapped into place. "You do pray to Mars about things like this?"

If it was some other god - Attis had heard things about Mithras being favoured by soldiers in the East - he'd have to plead for that god's aid from here in his master's tent. He might let his tongue run away with him at times, but he knew how to obey orders. Because if you were going to rile your master, it was far safer to only do it in one area rather than completely piss him off every time you moved.

 

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Longinus arched a brow, expecting some sarcastic comment and when none came he was surprised. But then relieved. Like most men of his age and rank, he disliked showing vulnerability but his body slave was perhaps the person closest to him, including his wife and family, and if he couldn't show a few pre-show jitters with the man then there would be no basis of trust with them going forward.

He chuckled, however, at Attis and nodded; "Yes it's Mars." He'd made his own offerings and spoken to the camp priests before their little jaunt up the hill although given the tactile and hopefully uneventful nature of the raid, it was no great sacrifice and didn't require a haruspex, which was fortunate, given Longinus had no great love for the man.

When he was ready he sighed and picked up his helmet, nudging Attis gently on the shoulder with a grin. "I'll see you when I get back, and try and get some sleep. I don't need to come back mortally wounded to find my slave passed out from exhaustion." A bit of dark humour, he hoped, to brighten both of their moods. And with that he strode out, and wouldn't be back for several hours.

 

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First things first! With his master gone, Attis could finally begin to restore order to the shambles the tent was in. It didn't require much effort, really, once he was no longer interrupted by his master, or reminded he'd been told not to. Attis conveniently assumed that that order had only applied before his master had left on this raid; if Longinus wanted to spend his life living in a tip, why have a slave with him at all?

He did not touch the things on the master's table; they were probably important documents or orders or something and it would be more than Attis' life was worth to tidy those up. He did pick up the master's empty cup and put it on the table out of the way. 

Once all that was done, he looked around to make sure that the tent was as it should be, with everything in its proper place, then blew out the lamp and crawled into his own bedroll at the foot of his master's bed to sleep while he awaited Longinus' safe return. 

There was no point worrying about what he had no influence over, his master would return or not and Attis could not help him by remaining awake and fretting - whatever happened, Attis could serve far better by being rested when Longinus did return.

 

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